


same old empty feeling in your heart

by hellothebrave



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Niall isn't really mentioned, One Shot, Sad!Louis, i think, idk what that means, larry stylinson - Freeform, louis likes poems, sad!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 06:02:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1215340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellothebrave/pseuds/hellothebrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are like the tide–<br/>You are beautiful<br/>And hard to resist;<br/>but the minute I<br/>Come running to you,<br/>You pull away. </p><p>or</p><p>Louis tends to cause people pain and Harry thinks humans deserve pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	same old empty feeling in your heart

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello I've been working really hard on this oneshot and I think it's one of my favs and I hope you love it as much as I do. Sorry for any mistakes. 
> 
> Big thank you to my wonderful editor, Brenda. 
> 
> I dedicate this to Brenda, Sara, and Marcy. 
> 
> Enjoy :)

The smell of rain still lingered in the air as well as the clouds did in the sky. Harry tugged the sleeves of his jacket over his arms and continued to walk through the damp, empty streets. The air was bitter and cold and it nipped at his cheeks which were now a rosy pink, that matched the tip of his nose. His breath came out in small clouds of vapour, quickly vanishing midair. The sky was dark and the night was lonely as well as Harry. A red neon light that read 'Open' flashed and twitched, drawing his attention. He walked closer, tugging the door open and slipping inside. The small diner was quiet and small with music humming in the background and coffee filling the air. He sat at a small booth, watching as the sky roared and small drops of rain raced each other on the window. A drop had made it's way down the window, picking up other droplets along the way. A voice snapped his thoughts.

"Would you like anything to drink?" a boy with blonde hair asked, voice empty and name tag reading 'Niall'.

"Coffee would be alright."

'Niall' nodded and headed towards the kitchen, returning in seconds with a steamy mug. "Can't sleep?"

Harry nursed the coffee in his hands, "Something like that."

Niall hummed, "Coffee's on the house, by the way. You know, considering it's like one in the morning and I don't give a shit about getting fired anymore."

Harry smiled and nodded a thanks, sending Niall back to the counter to read whatever he was reading. The coffee burned his tongue, giving him a satisfying, warm feeling throughout his body. The atmosphere was comfortable, but Harry knew he had to leave before he missed the bus. He sighed, leaving a tip and giving Niall a wave and walked back into the drizzling weather. Sitting with his bum on the curb and his legs out in front of him, was a boy in a beanie. Harry shrugged it off, walking closer and standing next to him, not caring about the rain that was matting his hair.

Beanie boy spoke, "Do you have a lighter?"

Harry looked down at him and froze. Maybe it was the cold air that had made it's way into his jacket, or maybe it wasn't. Either way, there was no denying that he was beautiful. His eyes were a crystal blue and his hair was a soft brown with his fringe slightly matted to his forehead. His lips were thin and a pinkish grey, curling at the sides a tiny bit.

"Yes or no?"

Harry fumbled through his pocket, pulling out a lighter and wordlessly handing it to the boy. He watched as the boy pulled a cigarette out his back pocket and brought it to his lips, cupping his hand around the flickering flame to keep it from burning out.

A cloud of smoke escaped the boy's lips. "Thanks." He handed the lighter back to Harry, focusing his gaze back on the streets in front of them.

"Y-You're not wearing a coat." Harry said, trying to break the silence.

"Brilliant observation." The boy smiled around the cigarette.

"You'll get ill."

A shrug, "I'll live."

"What? Do you like being ill?"

The boy gave a dry laugh, "I'm always ill."

Harry opened his mouth to say more, but was cut off. "Sit with me."

So, Harry did. He sat on the slightly wet curb, shifting uncomfortably as his jeans dampened with water. "Why are we sitting?"

For once, the boy met his eyes. "Why not?"

Harry didn't ask any further questions, instead he watch as the boy crossed his ankles and shook his feet back in forth; a steady rhythm Harry followed in his head.

"What makes you wonder around the streets at this time? I didn't really expect to see anyone else." The boy asked this time.

"Can't sleep." Harry said. "What about you?"

"I assume somewhere along the same lines as that, maybe more complicated." He burnt the cigarette out on the path. "This is the first time I've seen you around, though. Why is that?"

"I don't go out." Harry answered. "I needed fresh air. I like the rain."

" _I hear leaves drinking rain; / I hear rich leaves on top / Giving the poor beneath / Drop after drop; / 'Tis a sweet noise to hear / These green leaves drinking near." The boy cupped his hand, gathering raindrops, then letting them fall._

"Where did that come from?" Harry asked, impressed.

"William Henry Davies. A poet."

"You like poetry?"

The boy smiled, "I adore it."

"Favourite poem?"

The boy hummed, "Maybe other day." The bus appeared in the distance as the headlights gleamed. "Waiting for the bus?"

"Yeah," Harry pushed himself up. "I never got your name, by the way."

"Well, I never got yours."

"Harry."

The bus pulled up. Thats your ride."

"I haven't gotten your name, though."

The boy smirked, "King of France from 1774 to 1792."

–

Harry woke up to a bang in the kitchen and his cheek coated with saliva. Rain hit his window in a soft rhythm, did it even stop raining? Harry thought back to the poem he had heard the boy recite and sat up, stretching his muscles out. This peculiar boy filled his thoughts from the second he got on the bus to the minute he shut his eyes and the hour he opened them. There was something about the smirk on his lips and the blue in his eyes that captivated his thoughts. Something, Harry just didn't know what. He flopped back onto the springy mattress, pulling the duvet up to his chin and staring at the rain, washing away the city. The drumming of the rain filled the room, taking Harry's attention quickly. ' _Drop after drop / Tis a sweet noise to hear'_ Tis was. A light from the hallway sent a gleam of light into his room, but he didn't avert his gaze away from the window.

"Liam made breakfast," Zayn's voice said softly, "C'mon."

Harry stayed quiet, still looking out the window.

"Harry, c'mon. You staying in bed all day isn't going to help."

Harry grumbled and slowly sat up taking his blanket with him as he got up and slumped into the kitchen.

"Rise and shine," Liam said, placing plates on the small table. "Well, not really the 'shine' part. The weather's quite nasty."

"I like it." Harry said. "It's pretty."

Zayn pursed his lips but didn't say anything, instead he sat next to Liam and picked at his food. "You weren't in your room last night."

"I was out." Harry replied, poking at the bacon on his plate.

"At one in the morning?" Zayn asked.

"I wasn't tired."

"Just cos you weren't tired doesn't give you an excuse to roam around the streets."

"I am old enough to go out when I want, you're not my parents."

"We're just looking out for you." Liam said.

"I am not a child, I don't need a monitor every five seconds."

Zayn sighed. "We know you're not–"

"Stop." Harry interrupted.

They ate in an awkward silence, the only sounds were of forks scraping plates and small sniffles or sighs.

"King Louis," Harry gasped out.

"What?"

"King of France from 1774 to 1792."

"Okay?" Liam quirked an eyebrow and gave Zayn a questioning look. "Thank you for reminding us, Harry."

"No, thank  _you_ for forcing me to go to history class."

–

The sky continued to rumble and roar through out the day and into the night. Harry sat Indian style on his bed, knees hitting the wall as he traces patterns on the foggy window. He rested his head on the window, breathing so that it fogged up more. He outlined the buildings through the fog, erasing and breathing on it drawing after drawing. The clock next to his bed read 00:47 and he got up, pulling on a beanie over his curls and tugging on a black hoody. His converse slid onto his feet easily and he grabbed an umbrella and tiptoed his way out the flat, careful not to wake Liam or Zayn.

He walked through the streets once again, hopping over puddles and stepping on leafs covered in ice. He took the same route he did yesterday, walking towards the coffee shop and spotting the boy sitting on the curb once again.

"King Louis," Harry said, standing two feet from the boy.

The boy looked up with a smile playing on his lips, "Harry Potter."

"Just Harry."

"Well, Just Harry, I'm just Louis." Louis patted the space next to him, "Sit, Harry."

"It's pouring."

"Yeah."

Harry extended the umbrella so that it hovered over Louis instead. "So you don't get more ill."

"You're a strange one, Harry."

Drops hit Harry's face and matted his beanie. "Normal is boring."

"I don't like boring."

"I don't either."

Harry stayed quiet, looking at the mudded fabric of his shoes. "I'm gonna get coffee. Do you want any?"

"I'll just come with you." Louis stood up, still ducking under the umbrella. "Well, get under here too."

Harry obeyed, crouching under the umbrella next to Louis. The coffee shop was warm and had music humming like it did yesterday. Louis walked to one of the stools connected to the small bar and Harry followed. Harry sat, playing with the sugar packets as a random lady took Louis' order.

"Out because of the rain?" Louis asked, sipping at the coffee and cringing.

"Maybe," Harry answered. He held up a packet of sugar. "Too bitter?"

"No," Louis laughed, putting the coffee cup down on the marble. "I just realised, I hate coffee."

The sides of Harry's mouth pulled up into a smile. "Why drink it then?"

"Why not?" Louis sipped the drink again, mouth pursing in disgust. "God, that's horrible."

"You're odd."

"Odd is good, I assume."

"Of course."

Harry twisted his hips so that the stool turned back and forth. The rain outside had sped up, drumming hard on the window and blurring the city. Harry loved it. Silence took over the shop, leaving only the rain and clattering of dishes in the back audible.

"I think I should go," Harry said.

Louis furrowed his eyebrow, "We've still got time."

"Hardly." Harry hopped off the stool, grabbing his umbrella.

" _Farewell, but whenever you welcome the hour / That awakens the night-song of mirth in your bower, / Then think of the friend who once welcomed it too / And forgot his own griefs to be happy with you / His griefs may return, not a hope may remain / Of the few that have brighten'd his pathway of pain_." Louis smiled when Harry looked at him confused. "Thomas Moore."

"That was lovely,"

"It's one of my favourites."

"What is your favourite?"

Louis clicked his tongue and looked out the window, "I'll see you around, Just Harry."

-

The wind threatened to rip Harry's jacket from his embrace as he made his was to the library where he usually got engrossed into a random book. The skies were still cloudy and it had not rained all day; a bit of a shame. Coffee and the new books type of smell hit Harry as he walked into the library, waving a hello at the old librarian who he had become quite familiar with. He chose a random book and sat himself near the back, quickly becoming invested in the book. He jumped when he heard a slam on the table.

"Just Harry." Louis smiled and sat down, opening the book he had slammed on the desk. "Small world."

"King Louis," Harry answered. "Small town."

"What brings you here today?"

"I like the library."

"We have a lot in common."

"Yeah, well." Harry continued to focus on his book.

"Is there anything wrong? You seem upset." Louis looked at Harry with his head cocked to the side.

Harry shrugged. "Nothing really. Just things."

"I see." Louis nodded and hummed a time under his breath. "It's time I go. I'll see you tonight."

"How do you know that."

Louis grinned as he stood up, "How don't I?"

-

As expected, Harry walked down the familiar street with an umbrella in hand just in case and slumped shoulders. Liam and Zayn had scolded him a couple hours before for, "Going out unsupervised" causing Harry to throw a fit as usual. /How dare they, though./ Harry thought /I am not a bloody child I am a grown adult who is responsible for my own actions./ As he got nearer, he could see the familiar silhouette of Louis. This time, he was sitting down with his back against a brick wall and his legs kicked out in front of him. His lips curled around the cigarette that was dangling in his mouth as he saw Harry approach. He took the cigarette out of his mouth, holding it between his middle and index finger.

"Told you." Louis said smugly.

Harry simply shrugged and sat next to Louis wordlessly.

"You seem upset, Harry." Louis said. "Why is that?"

"I'm always upset."

"Another thing we have in common."

"But you're always so... Alive."

Louis blew a cloud of smoke out his mouth chuckling, "I am deceased inside."

"That doesn't make sense."

"When did I ever say I made sense?"

Harry bit his lip, looking away and watching the empty streets instead. "Say a poem."

Louis sighed and tapped his cigarette against his thigh. " _If you like my poems let them / walk in the evening a little behind you / then people will say / 'Along this road i saw a princess pass / on her way to meet her lover it was / toward nightfall with tall and ignorant servants.'_

"I like that poem." Harry said. "Who is it by?"

"The one and only E. E. Cummings."

"Who's your favourite poet?"

"Too many to choose from."

Harry paused. "Why'd you choose that poem?"

"Cos you like when I recite poems." Louis explained, pausing to inhale  
smoke then exhale it. "The first line is, ' _If you like my poems let them / walk in the evening a little behind you_ '. I thought it was ironic, the poem quite fit you. I don't know you well, but I assume poems stick with you."

Harry nodded. "They do."

Louis smiled and burnt out his cigarette on his palm, hardly flinching. "You're an open book. In the sense that some lines are easy to read and the rest are written in foreign symbols. I like that. Not too open, not too mysterious. Just my type."

"Your type?" asked Harry.

"If I wanted someone, that is."

"I see."

But Harry really didn't.

-

The next day Harry hardly left his room due to the fact that he did not have the energy to. In fact, he never did. Occasionally Zayn or Liam would walk in to give him his medication or to bring food, other than that, they left him alone. The rain had stopped for which was a shame to Harry considering he adored rain and despised the sun. However, when the familiar hours of the middle of the night arrived, he managed to get up and meet Louis back at the small coffee shop .

Louis was sitting at a table alone with his head tucked into his arms that were folded on the table. Harry sat across from him, careful not to startle the boy. "Rough day?"

Louis' shoulders shook with a laugh. "Something like that." He picked his head up, revealing bloodshot eyes and a pale(r) face and looked at the waitress. "I think I'll take tea today."

"Do you know if Niall's around?" Harry asked the waitress.

"He should be in tomorrow." She replied, tucking the notepad into her apron. "I'll let him know you were looking for him."

"Great. Thank you."

"Who's Niall?" Louis asked when the waitress left.

"A friend." Harry said.

Louis hummed and looked out the window, zoning out in the process and snapping out of it when his tea arrived. "Now, Harry. We have been running into each other for the past four or five days. Tell me about yourself."

"Nothing to say. I'm not interesting."

"I beg to differ, you seem utterly intriguing."

Harry shook his head. "No. I'm just odd."

Louis stared at Harry with an unreadable expression. "What do you like to do, Harry?"

"Um, I like to go out and take pictures. Well, I used to. I don't do it anymore, really. Um, what else... I like to sing. Not in front of people, though."

"No uni?"

"Not anymore. What about you?"

Louis stayed quiet, tapping his fingers on the glass mug in his hands. "You'll have to find out."

"You're mysterious." Harry said.

"I'm a closed book," Louis said, "And when you reveal my pages, I'm nothing but foreign symbols."

-

The next night Louis waited for Harry inside the shop once again.

"I have a surprise for you."

"Do you?" Harry asked, sitting down. "What is it?"

"It's a surprise."

Harry huffed and puffed out his cheeks.

"Anything's on the house," Niall interrupted, "Considering you acknowledged my existence."

"I'll take coffee," Harry said. "How have you been?"

"Alright." Niall answered. "Still can't sleep?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm restless."

Niall laughed and looked at Louis. "I see you found a nocturnal mate."

Louis nodded. "That he did."

"Very nice. I'll get your orders and I'll see you around–"

"Harry. I'm Harry. That's Louis."

"Right, Harry, Louis. I'll be back." Niall smiled and made his way to the kitchen.

"So, after this," Louis said, "We're going somewhere."

"Where?"

"Somewhere. I can't spoil a surprise otherwise it's not a surprise."

Harry huffed and Niall came back with their drinks and two biscuits because he was "feeling generous". Louis and Harry ate in silence, occasionally sneaking glances at each other. Finally, Louis got up and clapped his hands together.

"Alright, away we go."

 

Harry followed Louis past buildings and alleyways until they reached a field with a woods a couple yards away. Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he started to realise that there was a possible chance that Louis was a murderer and he was luring him into his own death. Anxiety pulsed through his veins and he assumed Louis heard his breathing start to quicken.

Louis turned to face Harry. "No, no, don't be scared." He reached for Harry's hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing, "It's nothing bad, I promise. Just close your eyes and trust me."

"How can I trust you? I hardly know your last name." Harry asked.

Louis pressed his lips together. "Tomlinson. Now, close your eyes and I'll lead the way."

Harry calmed down and reassured himself that maybe Louis wasn't trying to hurt him, but there was still a part of him that wasn't so sure. He closed his eyes and let Louis tug his hand as they walked. The ground crunched under Harry's feel as he walked through what he assumed was dead leafs and broken twigs. Finally, Louis halted.

"Keep your eyes close."

There was rustling, then Louis pushed Harry's palms so that they faces upwards and placed an object in his hands. "Now open."

Harry opened his eyes finding a black canon camera in his grasp. His eyes went wide. "A- A camera?"

"Indeed."

 

"I– oh my god. Thank you so, so much."

"It's no problem." Louis shrugged, "I had it lying around in my flat and I never really used it. I figured why not give it to you since you'd put it to good use."

Harry continued to stare at the camera in awe. "Well," Louis said, "Test it out. Take a picture."

Harry turned on the camera and opted to take a picture of the withered leafs on the ground. "It works amazing."

"Good."

Louis sighed and sat down and Harry followed. The air was silent expect for the small breaths being taken.

"Why were you sad, King Louis?" Harry decided to ask.

Louis stayed quiet for a brief moment. "Happiness and I don't get on very well."

 

–

Liam and Zayn managed to drag Harry out of the house and into town after they decided that him moping around would not bring his spirits back up. Harry wordlessly agreed, knowing that they wouldn't take no for an answer, and tugged on his shoes and slung his camera over his neck. He took pictures of the gloomy sky and occasionally of Liam and Zayn with their hands intertwined and their synced steps. He kicked a rock that made its way onto the path somehow and sighed. Suddenly, a pain in his side caused him to jolt up in shock.

"Did I scare you?" Louis asked, appearing beside him.

"Hardly." Harry mumbled.

Louis let out a laugh and continued to walk along side Harry. "What brings you to town when the sun is out."

"My mates practically dragged me out of my flat. What about you?"

"I work." Louis pointed behind him, "There's a small record shop down there. That's my job."

"Nice."

"I have an idea."

"Hm?"

"An adventure."

Harry looked at Louis with his eyebrow raised. "An adventure?"

"I believe that is what I said." Louis smiled and grabbed Harry's hand. "C'mon."

Louis pushed past people and walked towards an unknown direction with Harry in toe. Harry shrugged it off, taking pictures of plants and birds. Maybe a few shots of Louis, but he didn't have to know that.

Louis stopped at a place filled with many lights and people. "A carnival?" Harry asked, "In October?"

"Yes." Louis stood in line, waiting a while then paying for both their tickets. "Is there a problem with that?"

Harry walked into the carnival with Louis. "No. I've just never been to one."

Louis stopped in his tracks, causing Harry to collide into his back. "You have not lived a proper childhood. Come, I must show you the cliche ways of carnivals."

Louis took him to a booth where bottles were places standing up and the man was holding some two inch rings. Louis handed him some money and gave a ring to Harry. "You have to try making it on one of the necks."

Harry took a ring from Louis and tossed it. He watched how it clanked on the side of one if the bottles and rattled to a stop. After three tries and failures, Harry gave up.

"I'm pretty sure this is rigged."

"It is." Louis replied.

"Really?"

"No. But, I'm assuming."

Eight rigged games, three stuffed animals, many laughs and giggles, and two cheap hotdogs later, Louis and Harry were standing in line for the Ferris wheel.

"Is this fun?" Harry asked.

"I think so."

The man took their tickets and they climbed into the unsteady cart. The bar clamped down shut in front of them, causing Harry to jump. He chuckled a little as Louis gave him a confused look. They started to get higher and high and Harry started to grip the rusted bar tighter and tighter. Louis pried one of his hands from the bar and held it in his.

"Are you okay?"

"Mhm." Harry hummed, looking down. "I just– heights. Heights aren't fun."

Louis laughed and squeezed Harry's hand. "You're wrong. Fun comes with fear."

–

Harry got home around one in the morning with flushed cheeks and a smile on his face with his camera hanging on his neck. He tiptoed into the flat and was greeted by two scolding looks belonging to Liam and Zayn.

"Where did you go?" Liam asked.

"Out."

"Harry," Zayn sighed, looking exhausted. "Please, just tell us. We're tired and we were worried shitless."

"I was at a carnival. With King Louis."

"King Louis?"

"I believe I said that."

Liam gave Zayn a look and Zayn just shook his head and grabbed Liam's hand, walking towards their bedroom. "Goodnight Harry."

–

A few week later after several late night sneak outs with Louis and mini adventures during the day, Liam and Zayn suggested that they'd go on an adventure too. Harry wasn't too keen on the idea because adventures were Louis and Harry's thing, but he gave in like he normally did. Harry sat in the back seat looking out the window and trying to prevent himself from drifting off into a peaceful rest. He decided that one minute of sleep wouldn't hurt.

A jolt awakened him and Harry drowsily sat up and looked out the window. "Where are we?"

Liam turned off the car and looked at Harry, "We're visiting someone."

Harry shrugged because Liam and Zayn knew a lot a people so it wasn't a real shocker that their idea of an adventure was to hang out with a friend. They went into a building with a big waiting room and assistance at the front desk. Perhaps their friend was a doctor. A woman opened the door and called out, "Harry Styles?" and Harry shot his head up from here it was leaning against a wall. He hesitated, then stood up looking at Liam and Zayn.

"Are you guys coming?" He asked.

Zayn bit his lip and fidgeted with his hands. "N-no. We'll stay here."

Harry gave him a confused look but followed the woman through the door and into a narrow hallway. She walked with her heels clicking on the floor and she stopped at a door. "Have a seat and they'll be right in."

"I didn't know there was a process to having a quick chat." Harry murmured and made his way into the room, sitting on a sofa that was in front of a desk and next to a smaller chair. The room had a comfortable vibe to it and the walls were painted a tan colour. Almost like Louis' skin. Harry was snapped out of his thoughts when the door opened and closed revealing a man about 10 or so years older than Harry.

"Harry, am I correct?" The man asked and Harry nodded. "Okay, then. Hello, Harry my name is Dr. Winston, but you can call me Ben if you'd like. I understand this is your first therapy appointment, am I correct?"

Harry cocked his head to the side. "I thought you were mates with Zayn and Liam?"

"And who might they be?"

"My best friends. They told me we'd be chatting with some, like, mates."

"I'm afraid they told you wrong." Ben said, "They scheduled this appointment a few weeks back."

"Why?"

"Perhaps they're concerned." Ben sat down in the chair next to the sofa and clicked his pen. "So how are you, Harry?"

"Confused."

"And why is that?"

"I don't know why I'm here."

"Liam and Zayn both discussed with me that they are concerned for both your mental and physical health. Do you know why they might worry?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm okay, I guess. They won't leave me alone. They treat me like I'm five and they're, like, always worrying. There wasn't been a time where they weren't."

"Why is that?"

"Well, I don't know. A doctor said I was too sad. Liam and Zayn took that as an obligation to become sad as well ."

"I see. Is there anyone else in your life?"

Harry stayed quiet. "Um, I don't talk to my family anymore. I dunno why. Um, I have another friend named Louis."

"And what role does Louis play in your life?"

"He's funny and smart and he likes saying poems. Sometimes he's sad too but he never tells me why. He says he's a closed book with foreign symbols."

"That's... nice." Ben jotted down notes on his notepad. "Anyone else?"

"Niall. He works in a coffee shop."

"Is that it?"

"Yeah. I don't, like, talk to people much I don't know. Like, it's hard to find people who are interesting in any circumstance and you're intrigued by. Those are my favourite types of people but they're so rare to find. Im better off not hunting for them."

"Okay. You need to answer this honestly. Do you feel like you have any source happiness in your life?"

Harry chewed on his nail and thought for a moment. "My source of happiness doesn't get on very well with happiness."

–

Harry had to attend therapy twice a week until Liam and Zayn felt that he was okay enough to get on without it. That time wasn't coming anytime soon and Harry knew that. He was due to live in twenty minutes and his forehead was pressed against his bedroom window. The fact that he was forced to talk about his problems because people felt as if he was a threat to himself made him feel helpless. They treated him as if he was fragile, although he already knew he was, he didn't want to he reminded. Out of pure instinct, he got up and tip toed out of the apartment, careful not to make any noise. Once he was outside, he walked back downtown and spotted a familiar store and walked inside. The small bell rang as he walked in and the smell of cigarettes and vanilla filled the air.

"Welcome to–" Louis looked up from the magazine sprawled out in front of him and his face lit up with a smile. "Harry. I'm quite happy to see you're the first customer all day."

Harry shrugged and continued to stand in front of the door. "I just needed to get out."

"What's wrong?"

"Things."

Louis pursed his lips and checked his phone. "Come on. Let's cheer you up."

Harry followed Louis to a room in the back of the small record shop. Inside was two bean bags, a sofa, a big TV, and a fridge. Harry plopped down on a bean bag and sighed. Louis grabbed a bag of chocolates from the fridge and sat down on the other bean bag.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

Harry stayed quiet and picked at his nail bed. "Am I, like, a freak?"

Louis sat up straighter. "No. Why are you even asking me that?"

"Because I feel like one."

"Why is that?"

"People worry about me." Harry said. "They worry more than they should."

"Maybe that's a good thing."

"Why?"

"People only worry about things they care for."

"Do you worry for anything?"

"I try not to."

Harry looked at Louis. "Does that mean you don't care for anything?"

"Why should I care for others when no one can care for me?"

"What if I care for you?" Harry asked.

"I'd tell you that that's a terrible mistake."

–

Harry walked into the flat knowing that he would get an earful for missing an appointment.

"Where were you?" Liam asked.

"I was at a record shop." Harry answered.

"I hope you realise that you had an appointment." Zayn said.

"I do." Harry nodded, "That's why I left."

"Who were you with?"

"Louis."

"The same Louis that took you to a carnival?" Liam asked.

"Yes. That one."

Liam rubbed his hands over his face and looked at Harry. "I knew it. Harry, listen to me; we don't want to to hang out with him anymore."

Harry's smug expression dropped. "Why?"

"Because," Zayn said, "We think he's a bad influence on you."

"He's not–"

"From what we can see, he is."

"And keeping me locked in here is a good method for me to get better, I suppose?" Harry snapped.

"No, that is not what we are saying." Liam sighed, "You should just find someone else to hang out with."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because there's only one Louis I want."

"Well you can't have him." Liam gritted.

"If not, so be it." Harry said. "That won't stop me from trying."

–

Harry was kept on watch for a week and he nearly went insane. Having enough, he opted to continue visiting Louis at the empty hours of the night. The air was cold and started to get colder at days went causing Harry's teeth to chatter in a fast rhythm as he walked down the street. Louis was sitting against a wall with his knees pulled up to his chest and his forehead pressed to his knees with a lit cigarette in his hand. Harry approached him and sat next to him, nudging his shoulder a bit. Louis slowly picked his head up and placed his cigarette in his mouth.

"I was beginning to think you were growing tired of me."

Harry shook his head. "I've been on watch."

"Are you an animal now?"

"Seems like it." Harry bitterly chuckled.

Louis hummed and blew smoke out. "They don't like me, do they."

"They think you're a bad influence."

"Maybe I am."

"Maybe you are. Either way, I don't mind."

Louis laughed. "You're going to regret meeting me."

"Why is that?"

"I've been told I'm hard to forget."

"That's the least of my worries."

They stayed quiet after that, listening to the sound of each others breath and chattering teeth. Snow was going to fall soon, whether it was in a day or week; Harry couldn't wait.

"Say a poem."

Louis unlit his cigarette on his jeans. "On one condition."

"Hm?"

"Sing me a song."

Harry froze. "I- I can't."

"Why not?" Louis asked.

"Um–" Harry quickly thought of an excuse. "I can only sing when I'm playing piano. Comfort zone."

"There's a big ebony piano in the storage room in the record shop." Louis said. "Problem solved."

"Louis–"

"No excuses."

Harry grumbled.

" _Do not go gentle into that good night, / Old age should burn and rave at close of day; / Rage, rage against the dying of the light. / Though wise men at their end know dark is right /_ " Louis got up and brushed his jeans off, "Dylan Thomas. Let's go."

Harry got up and and followed Louis to the record shop. Louis dug keys out of his pockets and unlocked the door, pushing it open and turning on the lights as Harry followed. Instead of going behind the counter that lead to the back room, Louis walked straight towards the back where a door was hidden behind a shelf. He unlocked that door and opened it, leaving a creaking noise to fill the air. The room wasn't too big. It had a grey floor and tab walls and a piano near the right side with a seat. There was sofas and another TV and an old vinyl record player was seated in a corner with several records scattered around it.

"This is like the secret room." Louis said, walking in. He walked to the piano with Harry in toe and pushed him onto the seat. "Now play."

"I forgot how to."

Louis rolled his eyes and sat next to Harry. "Play."

Harry sighed and brought his shaking fingers onto the keys. "Only a snippet of the song."

"Fine by me."

Harry tried to calm himself down, testing the keys a bit. Finally, he played a familiar tune under his fingertips. He licked his lips and began. His voice was shaky also, but it worked.

" _It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside. I'm not one of those who can easily hide. I don't have much money, but boy if I did, I'd find a big house where we both could live._ "

Harry kept his eyes glued onto the keys although his curls started to fall onto his face.

" _So, excuse me forgetting, but these things I do. See, I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue_."

Out of pure confidence, Harry brought his eyes up to meet Louis' and locked his eyes with his.

" _Anyway the thing is, what I really mean, yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever see_ n."

The corners of Louis' lips began to raise into a smile.

" _And you can tell everybody, this is your song. It may be quite simple but, now that it's done, I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words, how wonderful life is now you're in the world._ " Harry finished the last note and dropped his hands onto his lap and broke his gaze from Louis'

"I believe even a poet couldn't describe how wonderful that was."

–

Harry was seated in the waiting room for his name to be called. He was tapping his foot against the floor and rocking his head side to side in a rhythm that played in his head. His name was called and he stood up, walking to the usual room. Ben was already seated in the single chair and scribbling on his notepad and Harry took a seat on the far end of the couch so that there was as much distance as possible.

"I see you missed your appointment last time." Ben said.

"Yes I did."

"Is anything wrong?"

"I'm fine."

"As your therapist I must know–"

"Every goddamn detail about my life." Harry interrupted. "Yes, I'm very aware of that."

Ben sighed and scribbled some more on the paper in front of him. "Liam and Zayn tell me they worry about you being around Louis."

"Well they shouldn't because he's nice."

"Is anything going on between you two?"

"No. We're just friends."

"Do you know why they worry about you two?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know."

"There must be a reason."

"There isn't one to give."

 

–

"That's why I don't like therapists," Louis said as he replaced a record with a different one. "They think that they can waltz into your life and fix your problems. Nosy bastard."

Harry bopped his head to the music. "I like this song."

Louis turned and offered Harry his hand. "Well then, let's dance."

"I don't dance."

"Neither do I so we'll both look like idiots."

Harry laughed and took Louis' hand and pushed himself up. He twisted his hips ungratefully to the music, occasionally stumbling. Louis jumped back and forth laughing at Harry's clumsy limbs.

"You know you twist so fine!" Louis sang along mocking Harry's twisting motion.

"C'mon and twist a little closer, now!" Harry sang between laughs and making a pulling motion towards Louis causing Louis to be "reeled" in. Louis was laughing uncontrollably now, eye crinkles visible and sweet laugh filling the air. Harry's breath caught in his throat because _wow._  Louis was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. But at this very moment, Harry's stomach had butterflies and his skin was warm and tingly and his heart was beating faster by the second although he was sure he was no longer breathing all because of this damn boy. Thisbeautiful boy. After his heart slowed down and the butterflies began to flutter less rapidly and his skin was left with only a soft warmth and he was in bed counting the stars that were nowhere near as bright as Louis' eyes, he realised how gone he was for him.

—

The next day Harry walked to the record shop with a beating heart and a skip in his step. The bell sounded as usual as he opened the door. However, instead of Louis behind the counter, Niall was.

"Since when do you work here?" Was the first thing Harry asked.

"I got hired a couple days ago by Louis." Niall shrugged, "I got fired from the coffee shop."

"Do you know where Louis is?" Was the second thing Harry asked.

"No, he didn't show up today and texted me to take his shift. Do you need anything?"

"Not really. Anymore, anyways."

–

Harry had not seen Louis in six days. Six. Everyday he would stop by the record store and every night he would appear in their usual street and Louis was not there. Harry tried not to worry because Louis probably had a life outside of Harry and that was okay. It's not like he was obligated to be with Harry at all times. On the seventh night, Harry went to the common street with low hopes, fingers crossed, and hair matted with snowflakes because snow season had arrived. There, sitting with his head in his knees was Louis. Harry quickened his pace and sat next to Louis.

Through the silence in the air he heard Louis' voice mumble. " _All out of doors looked darkly in at him / Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars, / That gathers on the pane in empty rooms. / What kept his eyes from giving back the gaze / Was the lamp tilted near them in his hand. / What kept him from remembering what it was / That brought him to that creaking room was age._ "

"Where have you been?" Harry asked.

Louis lifted his head up, revealing bags under his eyes and a paler face with more sunken in cheek bones. "Sleeping."

"That was quite a long nap."

Louis shrugged. "Could've been longer."

"Are you okay?"

"Define 'okay'."

"Are you happy?"

Louis laughed. "When am I ever happy?"

"You seemed happy yesterday." Harry whispered.

Louis stayed quiet. "You know, I've always wanted to be an actor."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Are you any good?"

Louis looked Harry, "You tell me."

–

The snow outside was starting to pile up high and higher and Harry didn't know whether he hated it or loved it. The days were shorter and the nights were longer and he was fine with that because that meant he didn't have to get out of bed at all no matter how much times Liam or Zayn yelled at him. His therapy appointments were cut off to once every two weeks and that was an even bigger plus because Harry didn't need someone telling him how he felt; he wasn't even sure how he felt. He invited Louis to the coffee shop the night before and Louis said maybe because he wasn't feeling well. This concerned Harry because Louis wasn't ever feeling well lately and he was now made up of porcelain skin and empty eyes with a hollow voice and a fragile figure. Harry wasn't an idiot, he knew Louis was most likely getting ill again because Louis did mention that he was always ill.

Harry sat in an empty booth playing with sugar packets and rearranging them into different shapes. He kept glancing up to look at the door to see if Louis was going to appear. After an hour, his hope was nothing but a speck in his chest and he got up, tipping the waiter and pushing the door opened. A gust of icy and bitter wind hit him sending a shudder through his body. As he made his way towards the bus stop, he spotted a familiar figure.

"There you are." Harry said, sitting next to Louis.

Louis huffed smoke out his mouth. "Here I am."

"Why didn't you go inside?"

Louis shrugged. "I like the cold."

"I like the rain."

"What someone likes can say a lot about them."

"Why do you say that?"

Louis looked at Harry, "Do you cry a lot?"

Harry nodded. "Is that bad?"

"You like when the sky looks and is as vulnerable as you." Louis averted his gaze back to the street. "I like when the air is as hollow and bitter as me."

Harry stayed quiet. "What if someone likes you?"

Louis laughed around his cigarette, slight crinkles forming around his eyes. "I don't think anyone would fancy a mess like me."

"And if they did?"

"What a mistake they would be making."

Harry frown because he was positive he wasn't making a mistake wasting his time on Louis. Louis was beautiful and witty and clever with a voice like velvet and eyes like tides and all the metaphors and similes poets could thing of.

"I think you're lovely." Harry said.

Louis' jaw clenched around the cigarette and took it out of his mouth, burning it out on his palm. He got up and brushed the snow from his jeans. "I have to go."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to care."

But it was a little too late for that.

-

Louis disappeared again, but for two weeks this time. Harry didn't know what to do except sulk around and hope that Louis would maybe reappear just once. On the fifteenth day Louis was missing, Harry decided to visit Niall because he was good company. When he got to the shop Niall was skimming through the hundreds of records with his back turned to Harry.

"Hi Niall." Harry said.

Niall turned around. "Hey, Harry. Looking for Louis?"

"No. I don't know where he is."

Niall furrowed his eyebrows. "I– Didn't he say anything?"

"No," Harry looked at Niall with confusion clear on his face. "What happened?"

Niall rubbed his hands over his face and walked to the front counter, taking a pen and paper out and jotting down something then handed it to Harry. "Ask for Louis Tomlinson, say you're family."

"But–"

"Just go."

Harry eyed the paper in his hand and headed towards the location written in scrawny writing. It was a twenty minutes walk through the city, but Harry managed to make it safe. The building was a hospital. Panic set in Harry's system as he walked in and talked to once of the nurses seated at the front desk.

"I– Um," Harry cleared his throat. "I'm looking for Louis Tomlinson?"

"And who are you?" She asked.

"His– um. His cousin."

She nodded and took a glance at her computer, scrolling and typing. "Room 303. Down that hallway, take the elevator to the seventh floor, take a left then another left and it should be the third door down."

"Right. Thank you." Harry nodded.

The ride in the elevator seemed like it took years and Harry's legs were shaking as he took the last left and was face to face with the door that read 303. He hesitated, then knocked. A faint, "Come in." sounded and Harry slowly pushed the door opened. He looked up when he was fully inside and saw Louis laying on the bed looking as ill as ever.

"Uh, hi." Harry said.

Louis gave him a long look then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Why are you here?"

"I was, um, looking for you."

"You found me." Louis said. "Now go."

"I don't think you can get rid of me that easily." Harry replied.

"I can't, but I'll try. Now leave."

"Why are you in the hospital?"

"I could ask you the same."

"I came to see you. Now you answer."

Louis sighed and let his head fall back into the pillow. "I told you I'm ill."

"What do you have?"

Louis paused and a little smile formed on his lips. "Insanity."

Harry pursed his lips. "You're completely fine."

_"I shed my tears; my tears – my consolation; / And I am silent; my murmur is dead, / My soul, sunk in a depression’s shade, / Hides in its depths the bitter exultation. / I don’t deplore my passing dream of life."_

"What–"

"Just go, Harry." Louis' voice cracked at the end; the only weakness he had ever showed in front of Harry. "Please."

So Harry left.

-

The next day Harry went back to the hospital although Louis made it clear that he did not want anyone there. This time he slowly opened the door to find a sleeping Louis with his features soft and beautiful as always. Harry pulled a chair to the left side of Louis' bed and sat with his head on his hands until he heard the shuffling of the sheets. Louis was looking at him with eyes clouded with sleep and he brought his fist up to (adorably) rub his eye.

"It's really creepy to stare at someone whilst they're sleeping." Louis mumbled, voice scratchy.

Harry shrugged. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Louis said then furrowed his eyebrows. "I thought I told you not to come back."

"You actually told me to leave." Harry answered. "You never told me I couldn't come back today."

"What am I going to do with you?"

"Keep me around, I hope."

Louis sighed and picked up Harry's hand, intertwining their fingers. "I would if I was planning to stay."

"What do you mean?"

Louis rubbed his thumbs across Harry's knuckles and said nothing. Harry noticed Louis' arm bandaged up and ran his empty hand along the tough fabric.

"What is this?" Harry asked.

Louis pulled his arm under the covers. "I think you should leave. For good."

"Lou–"

"No." Louis clenched his teeth and took a shaky breath. "Don't come back tomorrow or the next day or the day after that. I don't want you to see me and I definitely do not want to see you. Please, just go."

"Why are you–"

"Goddamn it, Harry just leave!"

Tears prickled in Harry's eyes as he got up and walked out the door. He didn't know what was more sad: the fact his everything thought he was nothing or that his everything felt as if he himself was nothing.

-

Harry forgot what it felt like; the numbness. It all seemed like a foreign memory that he was sure wouldn't make it's way back into him but it was there again filling his body and his mind. No tears were shed and no screams sounded because he forgot how to /feel/ something, anything. But when he thought of Louis he felt it all and his heart ached as it drummed in his chest and his throat closed as if Louis had a firm grasp on it and refused to let go. His tears burned on his face and he remembered the rain that was drizzling when he first met Louis and everything came crashing down like tidal waves that transformed into tsunamis.

"It hurts like hell," Harry said, "but, fuck, at least I feel _something_."

Ben nodded and scribbled notes down onto his notebook. "The memories hurt, am I correct?"

Harry nodded. "The thought of him is lingering in my mind and I can't– I can't get it out."

"You think this is good for you, though?"

"It's the only time I haven't felt numb."

"So he's giving you a purpose to feel?"

"He's the only reason why I even remember what pain is."

"How do you feel about that?"

"It hurts like a bitch, but if I could thank him, I would."

"How do Liam and Zayn feel about this?"

Harry laughed. "They're happy to see I've got some emotion left in me."

"They've warmed up to him, I suppose?"

"Maybe a little, I'm not sure."

"Do you plan on talking to Louis again?" Ben asked.

"Yeah," Harry admitted.

"And what if it goes wrong?"

"Feeling something is better than feeling nothing."

-  
Harry waited another two weeks until he left the house at one in the morning; something he hadn't done in a while. The air was filled with tiny snowflakes that clung on to Harry's skin and hair and melted on impact. His hands were shaking as he passed the familiar empty street and went straight into the coffee shop. He quietly ordered a cup of coffee, letting it burn his tongue and it's throat and warm his body. The night was quiet and Harry didn't even know why he was there but that didn't stop him. He drank the coffee until there wasn't even a drop left and buried his arms into his head before deciding that being there wasn't worth it and left a tip on the table. He pushed the door opened as he left and felt the cold air pinch his skin. As he got closer to the bus stopped, he noticed the silhouette he had grown used to. His steps hesitated as he approached the figure.

"I should've known you were gonna be here." Louis mumbled into his own knees.

"Why did you come then?" Harry asked.

"I was sort of hoping you would."

"Of course I would."

Louis sighed into his hands. "But why would you even want to?"

"Because–" Harry's tongue felt numb in his mouth and his throat felt dry. "Because I like you."

"Harry–"

"You know I saw a poem that reminded me of you." Harry looked at Louis. " _You are like the tide– / You are beautiful / And hard to resist; / but the minute I / Come running to you, / You pull away_."

"H–"

"And when I read it you automatically popped into my mind because no matter how much times I try to forget you I can't and every time I want to get to know you I can't and you're the only beautiful thing I've seen in my live and that I've ever wanted."

"Don't," Louis' voice was groggy with tears. "Don't Harry."

"You're pulling away." Harry whispered, "Why?"

"I'll shatter you so badly that pain will be the only word you'll know," Louis said.

"I think humans deserve pain." Harry said.

"That is bullshit."

"I think humans deserve pain." Harry continued, "We deserve heart break. We deserve someone to hug us until we break and we need someone to break us until we're dust. We need to fall in love with someone who we know will never love us back. We need to watch as they pry our heart out our chest and caress it in their own palms for a split second then crush it the next. We need someone who will kiss away our sorrows yet bite our lip, breaking the skin so that it bleeds until we tell them to let go and forever have a scar of their existence imbedded into us. We need this so that when we're alone with nothing but our thoughts and the numbness of our bodies we can simply remember their bone crushing embrace or the way our heart looked as it bled onto their palms and we can trace the scar on our lip and remember every inch of them and we can feel _something_ inside. We won't be numb again."

Louis covered his hands over his face and took a shuddering breath. His face was streaked with tears."I can't do this. I just fucking can't– you can't just dump all this shit on me and except me to be okay! I fucking– I just can't, Harry."

He watched as Louis walked away from his reach like usual.

-

Harry would have rather been numb than feel the pain that had spread through his mind and body. Louis' words were embedded into his skin and mind and the tears that slid down his face were forever engraved in Harry's memory. He looked so _broke_ and it broke Harry. He remembered all those small "mysterious" hints Louis told him and the puzzle fit together. Harry wasn't surprised that Louis wanted him out of his life for good. A week of pain and heartache went by quickly but the weeks started getting slower and slower and Harry was sure he was rotting from the inside out. Liam and Zayn worried that Harry was getting worse again and urged him to do something, anything to make sure the past wasn't repeated.

It was raining outside and as Harry watched the droplets race a pang erupted in his chest and he watched as the sky shed it's tears like he did. A knock a sound we on the door and Harry knew it was Liam or Zayn with groceries. The knocking grew louder and Harry grew more irritated and he got up, not caring that he looked like absolute shit. He grumbled as he fumbled with the locked and opened the door revealing a shivering Louis with bloodshot eyes. Before Harry could say anything Louis put his hands on his chest and pushed him.

"Three weeks," Louis said, "Three weeks and you are still engraved in my fucking mind. Three weeks and I still remember the colour of your eyes right down to the specks of gold that lie hidden in them."

Another shove to Harry's chest.

"Three weeks and your voice still lingers in my ears. Three weeks that I have been trying to forget your existence but you are all I can think about when I close my eyes and when I open them. This isn't supposed to fucking happen, _we_ weren't supposed to happen. But from the moment I saw you play that stupid song on that fucking piano with your goddamn voice, I knew I was too infatuated."

Louis put his hands on either side of Harry's face and brought their faces together until their foreheads touched.

"I am fucked up," Louis continued, "And so are you in the most innocent way possible. People dream of twisted romances like this and I don't fucking get why because this is the scariest shit ever and it shouldn't be wished for."

Louis took a deep breath, "I think I love you but I don't want to because I know I can't make any promises of staying and one day you might come hope to me with no pulse and an empty bottle in my hand and your world is going to crumble into pieces. I don't want you to live any days without me there to love you but I can't promise that there won't be a day where I take my life."

Louis' breath lingered of mint and cigarettes and was heavy on Harry's lip. "I want you, but I'm scared shitless."

"If you even think about walking out right now," Harry whispered, "Don't you dare leave with a kiss cos you might shatter me before I get the chance to."

Louis chuckled under his breath, "I wouldn't dare."

He pushed his chin up to meet Harry's lips with his. Harry kissed him back trying to give him all the words that he's been wanting to say but never dared.

Louis pulled away and mumbled against his lips, " _And the sunlight clasps the earth, / And the moonbeams kiss the sea - /What are all these kissings worth / If thou kiss not me?_ "

Harry laughed. "How long have you been wanting to use that one?"

"Ever since I asked you for a lighter."

Harry smiled down at Louis. "What's your favourite poem?"

"I don't have one."

"Why not?"

"Cos I still have yet to write one about you."

Harry smiled again. "Are you happy?"

"No," Louis said in all honesty. "But I'm hoping there will be a day where I am."

-

 

 

  
 **_Some Years Later_ **

Harry carefully tightened his tux and turned to look at Liam. "Do I look alright?"

"Absolutely dapper." Liam smiled. "Show time."

Harry took a shaking breath as the doors opened and he made his way down the aisle with Liam by his side. He caught Louis' gaze which was glassy with tears. Harry finally approached Louis and was stood in front of him.

"Would you like to do your vows?" The preacher asked.

Louis nodded, wiping his eyes a bit. "Um, yes. I'll go first." He took a live of paper out his pocket and took a deep breath. "Just Harry, where do I start? I don't even know myself and I usually have a way with words. I'm glad that I'm here with you today and I'm glad that it decided to rain that one night and that you happened to like the rain and that you happened to be restless. I'm glad you're a stubborn little shit and refused to take no for an answer no matter how many times I told you to leave. Most of all, I love you with all my heart. And you always used to ask me, 'Are you happy?' and I can finally reply with: Yes. Yes I am."

Harry wiped the tears from Louis' eyes as he continued reading. "As my favourite poet, Edgar Allan Poe, wrote, 'We loved with a love that was more than love. I, and my dear Harry.' Not exactly like that but you get the point. So am I happy? Yes. Beyond happy. I am alive inside and out and I want to thank you for that."

Harry's happiness found happiness, and that was all he could ask for

**Author's Note:**

> KUDOS COMMENTS AND SHARING WOULD BE APPRECIATED


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